The Cat, the Mill and the Murder: A Cats in Trouble Mystery (12 page)

Dr. Maddison smiled for the first time. “If we pull the wrong brick, the whole thing could topple down and destroy what we’re hoping to find. Simple common sense. But that’s a pretty small opening. We’ll need little hands to reach in and see what’s loose enough to pull out.” She stood with a groan. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see your hands.”

“Wait a minute,” Candace said. “We could have an entire dead body in there and—”

“Or,” Dr. Maddison said, “we could have nothing more than a piece of tarp inside this fireplace. The skeletal hand could have come from some prankster’s anatomy lab.”

Candace’s jaw slackened and I could tell she’d realized the professor might be right. Finally she said, “I suppose that’s possible. Might not be anything more criminal than that. Let’s see whose hand will fit in that hole.” She looked at me. “But I already know.”

Sure enough, I had the thinnest hands and after I traded the leather gloves for a pair of latex ones from Candace’s evidence kit, I swallowed hard. “Okay, Dustin. Guide me as best you can.”

Dustin said, “I’ve already moved the loose bricks in front. I believe we have a large hunk of concrete that’s pretty much supporting everything above it. Little chance you can budge it. But if you can reach in and loosen more bricks on the right side, maybe pull them out, we’ll have a better view. I’ll shine the Maglite in there for you.”

I shed my coat and once I was down on my knees, Dustin focused the light through the small passage where I’d seen Boots disappear. Once I leaned my head to the side and looked into the hole, there she was, her little face offering me a pleading look. The light passed right through her black-and-white fur. Oh boy. I was learning way more about ghosts than I ever wanted to—like, for instance, that they do exist. I shuddered and decided to concentrate on my task.

Sure enough, I was able to pull out first one brick and then another, sliding them sideways through the opening Boots had pointed out. I also saw daylight filtering through a hole in the back of the fireplace on the right corner.
Must be how the ferals are getting in and out,
I thought.

Dustin, down on the floor with me, said, “Remember, we’re hoping to remove just enough so we can angle a light to the left and get a good look at that tarp.”

I could see the configuration—sort of like a Jenga tower. I saw what few bricks I could remove and did so carefully. I then squinted at what I saw inside the fireplace. Dustin was right. A big piece of concrete in the center seemed to be supporting most of the debris. I lay on the floor on my left side so I could get most of my arm in. I carefully withdrew two more loose bricks right in
front of the monster hunk of concrete. The tarp was clearly visible from this angle with the help of the Maglite. Looking straight at it hadn’t revealed what I could now see.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

I yanked my arm out, tearing my Henley in the process. I pressed the back of my gloved hand against my mouth and mumbled, “Oh no,” several more times.

Candace knelt beside me, her hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”

“H-hair spilling out of the tarp. Long dirty hair. And a s-skull.” I looked up at the professor, who hadn’t joined Dustin, Candace and me on the floor, even though her concern was evident.

I said, “This is no prank, Professor.”

Since cell phone reception inside the mill was nonexistent, Candace had to leave to get reinforcements from outside. My presence, thank goodness, was no longer needed, so I walked out with her.

The crowd outside seemed to have grown, but Penelope Webber’s red coat reminded me of a ball of fire in an ocean of gray. She started toward Candace while my friend dragged me along, hurrying to where Morris and Chief Baca stood. They both seemed winded as we approached and then I realized they must have helped Shawn unload the cat shelters. Yes, that must be what happened, because I caught a glimpse of the Penske truck driving away.

Keeping her voice low, Candace said, “We got trouble, Chief.”

“Did you say trouble?” Penelope said. She’d swiftly closed in on us.

Candace whirled and faced her. “Ms. Webber, with all due respect, I need you to step back while I discuss an urgent matter with the chief.”

Penelope looked past Candace at Chief Baca. “Mike,
if there’s a problem, I need to be informed. The investor groups are both here and if I don’t give them an update, we could lose them—and their revenue.”

Candace’s lips tightened and she turned back to face Mike. All she did was raise her eyebrows and widen her blue eyes. We all knew Candace well enough to know what that expression meant:
Get her out of here. Now
.

Mike smiled at Penelope and said, “I would guess there won’t be any tour of the mill today. That is why you brought these folks here, am I right?”

“Yes,” she said. “I promised them that since the engineer had gone in without incident, and since I am told halogen lights are in place, they could all have a peek at more than blueprints.”

“You
shouldn’t
have done that,” Candace said.

Mike stepped between Penelope and Candace while I glanced over to where Morris stood. He seemed to be enjoying all this.

Mike said, “I need to talk to my officer, but I’m thinking a tour of the building is a bit premature. You’re good with people, Penny. You can explain this as a miscommunication on my part. Tell them we found a woman living in the mill and we want to remove all her belongings before they see the place. How’s that?”

Penelope’s hazel eyes darkened. “Exactly
what
is the
real
problem?”

“I promise to call you as soon as I find out,” Mike said, his voice like warm syrup. “Give us a little time and space to sort things out, would you?”

Penelope took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She straightened her shoulders, put on her politician smile and walked back to join the curious onlookers.

When she was out of earshot, Candace whispered, “There’s a body in there, Chief. And we’re gonna need a jackhammer to get the bones out of that fireplace.”

When I drove away from the mill property, I passed my stepdaughter, Kara, as she was arriving. I waved and sped on. Word that something was up had obviously gotten out, but the last thing I wanted was to talk to Kara about what I’d seen in that old fireplace. Besides, Candace had sworn me to secrecy and said she wasn’t even putting up crime scene tape in hopes of keeping away the entire population of Mercy. With Kara’s arrival, it would seem she was out of luck—but not because of me.

I arrived home hungry as well as fatigued by the stress of seeing that skull, but my three cats weren’t the least bit tired. As soon as I made myself a PBJ and carried it, along with a huge glass of sweet tea, to the small table in the kitchen nook, three kitty faces stared up at me.

They wanted me to do normal things—like quilting—rather than deal with bones and ghosts. I did have kitty quilt orders pending. I made them to order for cat lovers and my business was building. It would be so nice to sit in the easy chair in my quilting room and pick up a project, allow the rocking of the needle through fabric to soothe me. Instead, I found myself glancing around, thinking about Boots. Apparently she’d stayed at the mill, because Syrah and Merlot showed no indication we had a mysterious feline visitor. Had her whole purpose been to
lead me to where that body lay hidden? Would she disappear for good now? Had the whole ghost-cat thing been my imagination working overtime to help solve a problem? Perhaps. But deep down, I knew I’d seen Boots, felt her, sensed her—and so had two of my cats.

I was just putting my plate in the dishwasher when Tom arrived. His hug-and-kiss greeting was exactly what I needed and I clung to him, my head against his chest.

“Mmm. I smell peanut butter. But are you okay?” He lifted my chin so he could look at my face.

“There are more bones in that fireplace—and I saw them. It was awful.” I felt tears burn behind my eyes and I blinked them back.

With his arm around my shoulders, we went into the living room and sat on the sofa, where I told him everything—except about Boots. I still wasn’t sure what Tom would think of me if I mentioned a ghost cat—and what he thought of me was important. Yes, I was falling for this man, falling hard. And no talk of ghosts would get in the way of what we might have together.

“I heard nothing about the mill on my police scanner,” he said. “So, I’m guessing Mike and Candace have succeeded in keeping this quiet—for now.”

“I passed Kara on the way, so it won’t be a secret for long. I can see the
Mercy Messenger
headlines already. Anyway, Candace says they have to come up with a plan to get the skeleton out of the fireplace—and they would like to do that with as little interference as possible. But we all know once odd pieces of excavating equipment begin showing up in town, the cat will be out of the bag.”
Oh boy,
I thought.
Poor word choice
.

“This professor’s appearance didn’t stir up any grapevine interest?” he said.

“The anthropologist came early this morning, before Mercy got out of bed. Before I got out of bed,” I said. “Kara’s smart. She caught on pretty quick that something
is up. I saw her arrive at the mill when I left. But I’m more concerned about the town council, now that I think about it. Will this
discovery
ruin any hopes of turning that old place into a useful, beautiful building again?”

“Actually, it might have a positive effect in terms of revenue. Curiosity seekers could be drawn to the place.” Tom reached over and stroked Chablis, who had climbed into my lap the minute I sat down.

“Then there’s Jeannie to worry about,” I said. “I’ll bet that skeleton belongs to her daughter.”

“You’re probably right. Maybe Jeannie put the body there—her idea of a burial in a place she knew well,” he said.

“Burial?” I said. “How awful. Why would she do such a thing?”

“Well, we don’t know if this was a murder,” Tom said over Chablis’s loud purrs. “Maybe her daughter died by accident or of natural causes and Jeannie had no other place to lay the poor girl to rest. She was at odds with Pastor Mitch and his wife, so she might have felt as if she couldn’t turn to them for help to give her daughter a proper burial.”

“Sad, if that’s the case,” I said. “How terrible to have no one’s help at a time like that. I plan to help Jeannie any way I can. No one should have to live like she has—alone, in an abandoned building. I feel as if this whole town has let her down.”

“Could be she was perfectly content where she was,” he said. “Not everyone needs the company of others—although I know I surely do. I’ve been missing Finn. He’s gone from sunup until sundown and when he is at home, he’s studying. Yoshi spends most of his time with Ed.”

“But I know you’re proud of him,” I said. “He was smart to come to Mercy and find you. But then, he’s a smart kid.”

Tom smiled. “He is that.”

A knock sounded at the front door and I decided it must be a stranger since most of my friends all come to the back door. Turned out, it wasn’t a stranger after all.

I saw the county assistant coroner, Lydia Monk, through the peephole and stifled a groan. I whispered back at Tom, who was still sitting on the couch. “It’s Lydia. And I’m sure she’s recognized your car. We’re in trouble.”

Tom stood. “No, we’re not. That woman—oh, never mind. Let her in and let’s see what crazy story she’s dreamed up now that she’s found us together.”

I opened the door.

Lydia had chosen black today—with studs all over her leather pants and matching jacket. I mean, what coroner
anywhere
dressed like she belonged in a heavy metal rock video? But being a true Southern lady, I smiled and asked her to come in.

The look of fury on her face was not directed at me for once. She had her eye on Tom and marched into my living room, her stiletto boots probably making gouges in the wood floor. “I am not allowed at a crime scene. Me? The assistant coroner of this county
not allowed
?” She pointed a finger at Tom, the magenta paint blaringly bold. “
You
can do something about this.”

Tom looked both confused and irritated. “What are you talking about, Lydia?”

I walked over and stood behind her, thinking she might shoot fire right through me if I got too close. Syrah, however, was undeterred. He couldn’t stand Lydia and thus, being a feline, wanted to be as close to her as possible. For once, she didn’t even notice him sitting by her right foot ready to use Lydia’s leg as a scratching post.

“What I am talking about,” Lydia said, enunciating every word, “is Mike Baca bringing in some professor from who knows where to do my job. Mike and I are not
on the best of terms, but he can’t shut me out. He has to allow me access to the body. Since he’s
your
friend, you need to fix this.”

“But it’s a skeleton,” I said softly, hoping my tone would bring Lydia down a notch. “And it’s kind of wedged into a fireplace, so—”

Lydia whirled to face me. “Wouldn’t you know Jillian Hart would be smack-dab in the middle of this? A skeleton is still a body.”

Tom said, “Then what reason are they giving you for keeping you out of the mill?”

Lydia tossed her head with its overprocessed blond hair in my direction. “Does she have to be here? I came to talk to you because, of course, I knew this is where I’d find you.”

“It is her house, Lydia. I’m betting she stays.” I could tell Tom was fighting a grin. Lydia annoyed me but amused the heck out of him.

“Oh, all right. She can stay. She seems to know everything anyway. My point is, if they can allow Shawn to bring those Dumpster contraptions he calls cat shelters inside the building, why can’t I be inside, too?”

“Perhaps because bones require special handling?” Tom said.

“I’m not good enough to touch bones? I’ve handled plenty of them. Bringing in this expert is all Mike Baca’s doing. Political animal that he is, he wants to impress Penelope Webber. She wants this silly project to stay on schedule. Well, her silly project is a crime scene and I belong inside.”

“Hold on. They’re officially calling it a crime scene?” Tom asked.